


Secret Single Behavior

by IndigoNight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Skirts are comfortable it's just a fact, Steve is not surprised, Tony has secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:45:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoNight/pseuds/IndigoNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve accidentally catches Tony doing something unexpected. Steve is kind of used to surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Single Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, guys, this was a whim. Enjoy.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Tony blurted before Steve was even fully in the door. They hadn’t hit the point in their relationship yet where they wanted to officially consolidated their personal quarters, but frankly, Steve spent more time in Tony’s private apartment in the Tower than Tony did, which meant that Steve no longer felt the need to knock. That, in turn, led directly to Steve unexpectedly interrupting one of Tony’s - admittedly few - private recreational activities.

Steve paused, the rest of his body stilling even as his hand finished pushing the door closed behind him. “What does it look like?” he asked cautiously. His eyes reflexively swept the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary, besides, of course, Tony.

“It looks like I’m… wearing a skirt,” Tony admitted. “I am wearing a skirt. This is exactly what it looks like.” Tony found himself holding his breath, lungs empty and aching after his stream of words.

Steve’s eyes returned to Tony, traveled slowly up and down Tony’s body. He took in Tony’s tousled hair, the oil smudge on his cheek, and the faded AC/DC t-shirt, down to the tips of his bare toes poking out from beneath the hem of a red maxi skirt. There was a screwdriver tucked behind Tony’s ear and what looked like at least twelve disassembled television remotes spread out across the coffee table.

“Okay,” Steve said. He clapped Tony’s shoulder in absent greeting as he walked past on his way to the kitchen.

It took Tony a moment to stop blinking vacantly at the spot in front of the door where Steve had been standing. By the time he craned his neck around to follow Steve’s movements Steve had already disappeared into the kitchen. “Wait, what?” Tony blinked, and it was quite possibly the only time Steve had ever heard Tony Stark at a loss for words.

“I said, okay,” Steve repeated himself, patiently raising his voice to make sure he could be clearly heard. “Are you hungry? I was thinking about warming up some of the leftover Chinese from Thursday.”

Tony rounded on Steve, crossing the room to lean against the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen. “Really? That’s it? And yes, of course, I would love some Chinese.”

Steve was already digging around in the fridge and didn’t answer until after he came up triumphantly with the Chinese in question. Steve hair was damp from a recent shower and stuck up in unruly spikes, adding even more charm to his faintly bemused expression as he raised an eyebrow at Tony. “This is _by far_ not the weirdest thing I’ve ever caught you doing, Tony,” he pointed out. “I don’t know what reaction you’re expecting.”

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Fair point,” he admitted. “But, I mean, don’t you have… questions, or something?”

“Is there more of a story to the skirt thing?” Steve asked. He set aside the Chinese cartons for the moment; he still looked faintly amused, but he at least did Tony the courtesy of giving him his full attention.

“Well, since you ask, it’s comfortable and in my color.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t mean to be defensive, but it was reflexive and Steve’s absolute lack of reaction was throwing him wildly off balance.

Steve nodded calmly. “It looks comfortable,” he agreed.

Tony fought the urge to squirm under Steve’s level, expectant gaze. The man was so damned polite, it made Tony’s skin itch. “Great, so, good talk.” He turned away dismissively, unable to bear Steve’s gaze any longer. It didn’t make it more than a few steps though before he caught a second wind and turned back. “It really doesn’t bother you?” he asked, gesticulating far more than was necessary.

Steve had started to scoop the congealed noodles and pieces of beef onto plates. “It really doesn’t bother me,” he confirmed. “I fight monsters and supervillains while wearing kevlar enhanced spandex on a semi-daily basis. A man in a skirt, even my _boyfriend_ in a skirt, does not even come close to ranking on the list of things that might bother me.”

Tony swallowed back the anxious knot in the back of his throat, confused and relieved at the same time. He nodded, once, sharply. “Okay then, nevermind,” he said, drawing out the “ay” for a beat longer than necessary. He returned to his disassembled television remotes while Steve finished with the food and silence descended over the apartment.

Tony pretended to be absorbed in his project until Steve carefully, but firmly, shifted the remote pieces out of his direct line of sight and replaced them with a plate of reheated Chinese food. Tony sat back into the couch cushions to allow Steve to move past him and sit at his side on the couch. Steve kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs out onto the coffee table, cradling his plate against his chest.

“You’re an animal,” Tony complained, poking at Steve’s long legs. Steve raised a pointed eyebrow at the table, which had probably cost more than an average New York city apartment at one point, but was already covered in deep screwdriver scratches and several scorch marks from what Steve suspected was a welding torch. Tony followed Steve’s line of sight and pursed his lips. “Forget I said anything,” he amended.

Steve smirked and stuffed a fork full of noodles into his mouth. Tony rolled his eyes, bunching the skirt in his hand as he kicked his legs up to join Steve’s. Steve jostled Tony’s shoulder, both playful and pointed as they settled into companionable silence over their food.

Their food was half gone before either of them spoke again. Steve pushed a piece of broccoli in concentric circles around his plate, watching it gather the dregs of sauce. “Tony,” he asked quietly, a note of seriousness in his tone that his earlier flippant acceptance had lacked. “Have you been hiding this from me?”

"Uh, no, not hiding it... exactly," Tony refuted, and his tone had taken on more flippancy than his earlier bafflement had allowed. "Not so much as... not talking about it?" He offered. There was a hint of wariness in his gaze as he tilted his head to look sidelong at Steve, some part of him braced instinctually for a fight. "It's kind of one of those Secret Single Behavior things. Which, by the way, watching Sex and the City together was a great idea."

Steve hummed in agreement, chewing slowly on the piece of broccoli he'd finally stopped playing with. "You can thank Clint for that one."

"I knew it," Tony crowed. 

They descended into silence again, easy and relaxed, but both knowing there was still more to say. 

"It's not like... like a gender thing," Tony said after a few minutes. "Not that there'd be anything wrong with it, if it was," he added hastily. "I just mean, you know, that it's not, for me. I'm a guy, inside and out."

"I know." 

"Okay, good." Some of the tension that neither of them had wanted to acknowledge dissipated, and Tony shift sideways so that he could rest his legs across Steve's lap. Steve moved both of their plates safely out of the way and settled deeper into the couch cushions, his hands dropping to rest habitually on Tony's shins. 

"So it's really that comfortable?" Steve mused. He touched the fabric with one hand, running the soft cloth between his fingers. 

"It really is," Tony confirmed. "Flowy, well ventilated, plus the twirl factor is awesome." Steve laughed, warm and fond, and Tony raised and eyebrow. "You know," Tony said casually, stretching his calf muscles as he slid down further on the couch, "I have one in blue too."

Steve mirrored Tony's raised eyebrow, as his hand slid idly under the skirt and up Tony's leg. "Do you?"

"I do," Tony confirmed with an impish grin. "It might be a little short on you though."

"I'm sure I can make it work," Steve said, waggling an eyebrow. It was a calculated move, because Steve was fully aware that it made him look absolutely ridiculous and it never failed to make Tony laugh.

It worked and Tony shifted down the couch to straddle Steve's lap. Steve hummed, sitting up a little more to accommodate him. His hands slid up Tony's legs under the thin fabric of the skirt, relishing in the feeling of firm skin under soft hair. He was both delighted and unsurprised to discover that Tony was not wearing anything under the skirt. 

Steve tilted his head up for a kiss, and Tony obliged him, his arms draped loosely around Steve's neck.

"Thank you," Tony said quietly, the words almost lost against Steve's lips, "for not being weird about this."

"Thank _you_ ," Steve reciprocated. He tightened his arms around Tony's thighs, sitting up to press their chests together and deepen the kiss. "For giving me the chance."

Tony hummed, kissing a slow line down Steve's jaw. "There is, uh, one other benefit to this..." Tony murmured. He flexed, pressing his ass more firmly into Steve's all too willing hands. 

"And what's that?" Steve raised an eyebrow, barely constrained mirth giving way to the increasing arousal in his voice. 

Tony leaned in close enough to playfully nip at Steve's earlobe. "Easy access," he purred, his tone sending a shiver all the way down Steve's spine. 

"Well, when you put it that way..." Steve stood, using the leverage of his arms braced just under the curve of Tony's ass to scoop him up and head for the bedroom. "JARVIS, please make sure we aren't disturbed."


End file.
